


Minimalistica

by wontaeks (orphan_account)



Category: EXOPlanet
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-19
Updated: 2012-06-19
Packaged: 2017-11-08 02:16:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/438033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/wontaeks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He padded into his ivory kitchen and looked into the empty fridge out of habit, then put a pot of water on to boil, staring blankly at the electric cooking range. <i>What am I doing with my life?</i> He thought, putting his palms on the edge of the counter and hunching his shoulders.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Minimalistica

                Kris was never very wealthy. Not when he lived with his family, and not when he began living on his own. He didn't own much, and he kept his wardrobe simple, as moving around a lot as a child had taught him that it's the experience that counts, not the material thing. Kris thought that much of his upbringing plus a lot of his own mentality contributed to his minimalism. He looked around his empty apartment, satisfied with its nakedness.   
                He kicked his shoes off and across the room, sliding down into a lower slouch on his sofa, watching the way his shoes ricocheted off the old white wall and fell to the floor.   
                They knocked plaster off the wall.  
                Kris sighed and allowed his eyes to slide shut, listening to the traffic noise on the other side of his eighth-story shitty apartment's French doors leading out to the terrace. The sound of tires on asphalt was comforting, but the sound of drivers laying on their horns angrily was jarring and disruptive. Kris forced himself to sit still for a moment before getting up to brew a bitter cup of coffee and fetch a book. He padded into his ivory kitchen and looked into the empty fridge out of habit, then put a pot of water on to boil, staring blankly at the electric cooking range. _What am I doing with my life_? He thought, putting his palms on the edge of the counter and hunching his shoulders. He let out a long breath before turning off the stove and rushing out of the kitchen, stuffing his feet in his tossed aside shoes as he passed through the living room. Yanking open the hallway closet, Kris grabbed a black blazer and threw it on over his white button-up, grabbing his keys before leaving his apartment.  
                He bounced on the balls of his feet as he waited for the rickety elevator to take him down to the lobby, and with catwalk confidence, Kris walked out of his apartment building and into the busy street. People bustled about him, jostling him this way and that until he escaped into a smaller side street, stumbling slightly but still maintaining his poise. Kris straightened up to his monstrous height again, and brushed off the front of his blazer. He noticed his shirt was wrinkled.   
                The street he found himself on was charming and cozy, lined with restaurants and shops, warm smells wafting out of busy kitchens and happy voices ringing out from light conversations. Kris stuffed his hands in the pockets of his tight jeans, scuffing his feet along the road. He still wanted coffee.   
                Finding the nearest coffee shop, he ducked inside, pulling out his wallet as he stepped up to the counter. The barista greeted him warmly and he shot her a taut smile, his eyes scanning the menu board. "I'll just have a house coffee," he said, opening his billfold.   
                "Is that for here or to go?" The barista asked, taking the bill Kris held out.  
                Kris scanned the establishment quickly. "For here."   
                He took his change and meandered to a table by the storefront window, plopping down on the cushioned bench seat. His long legs caused his knees to bump the underside of the table, so he stretched out, kicking his feet up on the bench on the opposite side of the table.   
                Kris was just beginning to zone out when the barista called his coffee and he had to stand up, retrieving the cup of black coffee from the front counter. As Kris turned, he gasped and stepped backwards to attempt to avoid a collision with a much shorter man. Kris backed up against the counter but the other man's momentum didn't allow him to stop as he bumped into Kris, dropping the empty cup and saucer he was holding. Kris set his coffee down on the counter and reached out to help steady the man by the arm as the cup and saucer tumbled to the floor and shattered.   
                "Shit," the short man said. "I'm so sorry. I didn't spill on you, did I?"   
                Kris looked down at his clothes. "No." His eyes met the other man's for a moment before he glanced away. "I was more concerned about spilling my own coffee."   
                The short man laughed melodically. "Will you help me pick up the pieces?" He asked brightly, kneeling to gather up the broken shards.   
                _No_ , Kris wanted to say sourly, but he found himself very quickly on his knees, picking up pieces of broken coffee cup. They reached for the same piece at the same time and their fingers brushed. Kris shrank away from the touch, studying closely the other man's face as he looked down and continued to pick up cup shards. "I'm Kris." He said before he could stop himself.   
                The other man looked up, a smile slowly spreading on his face. "Joonmyun," he gave his name, eyes lively.   
                "Would you… like to come sit with me?" Kris asked. _Stop_ , he told himself, but he found himself helping Joonmyun to his feet. Against his better judgment.   
                "I'd love to," Joonmyun said, and followed Kris and his coffee to the table by the window. They slid into the bench seats and Kris kicked his feet up again, sipping daintily at his coffee. Kris continued to study Joonmyun's face shamelessly, and Joonmyun continued to smile. "So where are you from?"  
                Kris set down his coffee. "Canada,"  
                "Ah," Joonmyun said, leaning back. "What do you do for a living?"   
                Kris looked out the window at the street, then back at Joonmyun. "I'm a sculptor." He smirked, leaning closer to Joonmyun.   
                Joonmyun brushed his black bangs out of his eyes and dimples formed in his cheeks. "An artist type," he said laughingly, folding his hands under his chin and propping his elbows on the table.   
                "And how about you?" Kris shot back, taking another sip of bitter coffee.   
                "My work isn't as exciting as yours." Joonmyun chuckled. "I'm a business owner."   
                "Oh?" Kris raised his thick eyebrows. "What business?"   
                "Sinbi Corporation."   
                Kris almost spat out his coffee. He was sitting at a table with the owner of almost all of Korea. "You're kidding."   
                Joonmyun shook his head. "It's the family company. My father owned it before I did, and my grandfather before that. It wasn't my first choice of work, but being the kind of man I am, I couldn't just turn down my lineage."   
                Kris leaned even closer. "Isn't there something you'd rather do?"   
                "Oh, naturally." Joonmyun's smile turned mischievous before wilting slightly. "Everyone has something they'd rather do." He dropped his gaze and folded his arms on top of the table.   
                Kris could feel a wave of defeat roll off Joonmyun. He forced himself to smile and change the topic.

 

 

                They talked for a long time, Kris realized as they stood up at last and Kris bussed his dishes. He looked at the stylish wall clock, and jumped when he saw it read 10:30pm. As the door to the closing café shut behind them, Joonmyun caught Kris by the elbow, smiling brightly. Kris' heart lurched at the contact, and he looked down into Joonmyun's happy face. Kris' heart continued to beat erratically.   
                "It was nice talking to you." Joonmyun said, not letting go of Kris' elbow.   
                "Yeah," Kris managed to croak, trying to walk away. Joonmyun followed, still gripping Kris' arm with firm fingers.   
                "Do you have an apartment around here?" Joonmyun asked.   
                Kris nodded. "I live just around this corner," he said, indicating the corner they were about to turn. A raindrop hit the back of his extended hand. He hissed at looked at the sky as it began to pour.   
                "Oh no," Joonmyun whined, linking his arm around Kris' and drawing close to his frame. _This man knows no boundaries_ , Kris thought bitterly, picking up his pace as he rushed to his apartment building. While Joonmyun's touch made Kris angry, it wasn't unwelcome, even if Kris denied that it was a comfortable kind of body heat and proximity. His pounding heart seemed just as loud as the torrential rain.   
                They skittered under the cover in front of Kris' apartment building, and Joonmyun let out a childish giggle, looking down at his soaked clothes. Kris didn't want his eyes to scrape hungrily over Joonmyun's frame and enjoy the way his light grey turtleneck clung to his body, but they did and he somehow broke into a stupid grin as their eyes met. Joonmyun slid his hand down Kris' arm and linked their fingers together, never having broken contact since he grabbed Kris' elbow back at the café. Kris blinked, staring at Joonmyun's flushed pink lips.   
                "May I walk you to your apartment?" Joonmyun asked sweetly.   
                Kris shrugged, disgusted by Joonmyun's kindness but somehow strangely grateful. "Sure."   
                They climbed into the shitty elevator and the doors slid shut, Joonmyun still clinging to Kris' fingers.   
                Joonmyun smelled good in the enclosed space.   
                Kris leaned over and pressed his lips to Joonmyun's damp hair, breathing in his earthy scent, eyes shut. Joonmyun didn't pull away, smiling softly. Kris kissed Joonmyun's head again, this time on his temple. Again on the cheek. Kris was stooping now. Once more on the lips, turning to face each other now. Joonmyun gathered a handful of Kris' white shirt with his free hand, pulling Kris close as he pressed Joonmyun against the wall of the elevator.   
                The elevator dinged and Kris pulled Joonmyun into the hall, allowing his subconscious take over as he led Joonmyun by the wrist to his apartment, smoothly unlocking the door. Joonmyun waited patiently until Kris had shut the door before he threw his arms around Kris' neck and crashed his lips against the tanned column of Kris' neck. Roughly, Kris pushed Joonmyun against the door of his hall closet, snaking his hands under Joonmyun's cashmere shirt and kissing the edge of his jaw. Joonmyun shivered against Kris' cold fingers as they touched his lily white stomach, and he gripped the lapels of Kris' black blazer, attempting to pull the jacket off his shoulders. Kris got the message and pulled his hands away to shed his wet jacket. Joonmyun's skin tingled where Kris' hands had touched until Kris' fingers returned to exploring Joonmyun's torso.   
                Kris didn't quite understand why he was so desperately tearing at a man he'd only just met, but it didn't stop him from helping Joonmyun unbutton his shirt the rest of the way and shimmy it off to the ground. Their lips were warm as they pressed together, Kris ushering Joonmyun to his empty living room and pushing him down on the couch. Kris toed off his shoes and Joonmyun ripped off his heather grey turtleneck as they fell together, all kisses and light touches. Kris closed his eyes and smiled against Joonmyun's lips. Kissing this mystery man felt so right, even if they were from opposite ends of the social ladder. Kris had nothing and Joonmyun had everything.

 

 

                They woke up the next morning in Kris' feather down white bed unsure of how they'd gotten there, and Kris stared blankly at the ceiling, white sunlight pouring in from the window and washing them in morning glow. Sex still lingered on every inch of Kris' bare body, making him lethargic and blushed. He'd just fucked the wealthiest man in Korea.


End file.
